Facing Her Demons
by BR125
Summary: This is set during Rise, I wanted to see more of Kate's appointment with Dr. Burke, and this is my take on that scene. *Complete


**_A/N This is set during Rise, I wanted to see more of Kate's appointment with Dr. Burke, and this is my take on that scene. My thanks go out once again to Kjf3333 and Tshlw for their help, you guys are the best. ___****I do not own Castle, the characters etc., add in all the other usual disclaimers here. **

As she crosses the threshold into his office, she's hit with the realization that she is entering not as Detective Beckett, but as Kate. Gone are the high heels, badge and gun, leaving behind the fragile vulnerable woman who has experienced so much loss and heartache. The room is quiet; the faint almost imperceptible whisper of the air coming up through the floor vents is the only sound to break the silence. She detects the faint scent of vanilla and jasmine in the air, which she assumes was left behind from the previous client.

The lights are dim, what little light that does exists is coming in from the windows directly in front of her, the blinds left slightly askew. As her eyes scan the room and she finds the rich dark colors soothing. Various art prints adorn the deep brown walls; a large mahogany book case sits directly behind him. A desk off in the corner catches her eye, a photograph frame sitting atop, the image contained within turned away from the room. She suppress the overwhelming urge to go it, to glimpse something more personal, gain a more equal footing, to know more about the man she is about to bear her soul to.

Her feet sink slightly into the plush deep burgundy carpet as she makes her way across the room. She takes her time, her steps labored, weighted down by the events of the day, and the realization that she is broken. She meets his gaze for a fleeting moment, giving him a slight nod of her head in greeting just before she turns her body away in preparation to sit in the chair directly across from him.

_She recalls her first visit here and how she longed to run to the wall and turn every switch on, flood the room with light. Darkness is for confessions, the lack of light making people feel secure, it wraps around them, gives them a false sense of protection, as if secrets told in relative darkness do not hold the same weight as those told in full light. She had no secrets she was willing to share, not one to open herself up easily. Her visit was mandatory, an annoyance, just a stepping stone to getting back to work, after her long recovery._

She sits down heavily, letting her body sink completely into the soft leather chair, and kicks off her shoes. Her head drops forward; she brings her knees to her chest, her hair creating a curtain around her face, hiding her shame, her disappointment in herself, her lies. She welcomes the comfort the darkness provides, this time she has no urge to flood the room with light. Raising her eyes up to meets his; he sees it all, the uncertainty, the fear, a woman on the verge of a breakdown. Delivered with a shaky voice, the words are out before she can stop them, a small part of her desperate to know that she's not the only one that has ever come back here. That the weakness she feels from needing help will somehow be lessened by the knowledge she's not alone, that others have been where she is, and have survived.

"You're probably surprised to see me back here. Bet most cops never come back after they pass their psych eval."

The late afternoon sun is bleeding through the semi closed blinds; its long tendrils of warmth fall upon her arm. She follows the lines with her eyes, how they bend and dip, silently ghosting over the creases in her shirt; yet never deviate from their path. In a fleeting moment of self-reflection, her mind draws the parallel to her own life. Her heart half open, allowing only the smallest glimpses of her true self to shine through. Her unyielding determination to get justice for her mother's murder, her path, one that she has never been able to completely stray from.

"Everyone's different. What's on your mind?"

His question breaks the silence, drawing her back from her musings. She shifts her position and pulls one leg securely beneath her, the fingers of her left hand begin twisting unforgivingly into the soft leather of the chair, the supple material giving way, stretching. Drawing her eyes up from her arm, her head turns towards him but her eyes remain focused on a spot on the wall, just over his left shoulder. Her mind is racing, all her reasons for being here, flashing by like a movie in fast forward. The detective in her longs to slow the images down, take each one individually, examine it, study it, try to create order from the chaos in her mind. Her mother's murder, her self-imposed banishment to her father's cabin; friend's phone calls not returned, and messages left unanswered. The devastating loss of a man she considered a friend, a mentor, and his complete betrayal of her trust. How she wakes up every day and wonders how it is even possible that she is still alive. How every night when she closes her eyes, her mind transports her back to that day in the cemetery, lying in the grass, a bullet in her chest, her life slowly draining out of her. Castle's declaration of love, and the total devastation in his eyes when she told him she didn't remember.

"I don't even know where to start."

"Well, why don't we start with the shooting? Is any of it coming back to you?"

The seemingly benign question, the weight of it hangs heavily in the air. Her mouth suddenly goes completely dry, her right hand fumbles blindly behind her for the glass of water to her right. She's vaguely aware of her hand moving left to right, opening and closing but failing to grasp it. Quickly snapping her head to the table, she grabs the glass and takes a long drink. The cool water rushes down her throat, providing the much needed moisture that her mouth desperately craves. As she holds the glass out in front of her, she can't hide the tremble of her hand. The shifts and ripples of the water, mocking her, giving away her secret, how truly shaken she is by his question. Leaning slightly to her side, gently placing the glass down, the tremor still clearly present, not unlike the one that urged her to make this appointment.

_The suspect had come up from behind, surprising her. At the sound of the shot gun cocking she immediately spun around, her gun raised. Her body began to tremble, her heart hammering in her chest. She drew in a deep calming breath, her eyes slipping closed in an effort to calm her ragged nerves. Her chest began to tighten, paralyzing fear crippling her movements. She could feel Castle's presence behind her, his words of encouragement breaking through her panic, grounding her._

_"Take it easy Kate, take it easy, you got this, you got this."_

Inhaling deeply, her eyes slip shut briefly as her mind returns to the present, her thumb reaches up to swipe away an errant tear, ending its slow journey down her cheek. The answer to his question struggling to break free and she feels a small flicker of hope ignite inside her. She's tired of having walls, living a life devoid of complete happiness. She longs to be whole again, to return to the person she was before her mother was left alone to die in that alley, the person who never experienced the pain of a snipers bullet piercing their heart. A person who can once again open their heart to love and return it. To be healed, no longer carrying the heavy burdens that have been weighting her down for so long. That maybe if she puts the work in, no excuses, one day it could all be possible. Her mind once again recalls Castle's words, words he delivered in desperation so fitting to the situation she now finds herself in now, rush forward, and her path is suddenly so clear. His words have been saving her long before their lives became intertwined three years ago, brought together by fate and murder, but bound together by friendship, love and the possibility of more.

"You could be happy, Kate. You deserve to be happy. But you're afraid."

Taking a deep breath, she leans slightly forward in her chair, a steely determination in her eyes, this step; the first step in what will be a long road to recovery, begins with confession.

"I lied. Before."

"Well, what do you remember?"

"I remember everything."

**_Additional AN: If you would like to follow me on twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate the scene from the show, twitter sized. You can follow that at Castleficlets_**


End file.
